Silver Eye Coven
by RoyalBubbles
Summary: Rejection, his old friend. He gave up on the longing to be belonged. He hid himself behind his occlumency walls. What would happen when he came face to face with his "would have been family?" A tale of love and hate, acceptance and rejection, tears and smile.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It solely belongs to Jo Rowling and co.**

**A/N: Hello guys! This is my first attempt at a fanfiction. I don't have a beta. I have tried my best to get rid of typos.**

**Please read following:**

**This story will not follow canon, there will be no second war.**

**Dark Lord was killed by baby Potter in the first war. Thus no horcruxes.**

**This story may include ABUSE, SELF HARM, NEGLECT, CHARACTER DEATH(not major character), CORPORAL PUNISHMENT(may or may not at some point in later chapters). If any of these bother you please DON'T GO FURTHER.**

**Those of you, who have decided to read. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you!**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

New term of Hogwarts was starting the next day. The welcoming feast was only hours away, and the professors and the head of houses were running last minute preparations. The deputy headmistress was waiting stoically for the newly appointed Defence against Dark arts professor, who in her opinion was no better than the previous dolts Albus twinkling Dumbledore had the pleasure of thrusting upon them. Severus Snape was way better of them all, but after the victory of light and demise of Dark Lord at the hands of baby Potter, he was content with his potions and dungeons. The deputy headmistress huffed. Of course elegantly. It was by no means childish. It was only two hours before the Hogwarts Express was due to arrive and he wasn't there yet. She was almost sure that no one was coming for the DADA post. May be Albus had only dreamed of hiring a defense professor. It might be the side effect of such old age she thought sarcastically. The animagus professor turned her head to glare at the headmaster who was all the same, calm and twinkling as if christmas had come earlier. Before she could start her mental ranting again, the door of staff lounge vibrated with three swift knocks. At the call of come in from Albus, a young man who was no more than 20 stepped gracefully into the lounge, and shut the door behind him. He was average in height neither too tall nor too short. He was straight and steady on his feet. Dark brown curls just touched his neck. The softness of said curls almost compelled a soft caress. The loose curls tickled the slightly tan but a handsome face. The almost black but dark brown eyes were warm yet guarded. He steadily met the hard glare of deputy headmistress. He wasn't intimidated in the least. He had the audacity to merely smile at the lioness of the Castle.

"Headmaster! Deputy Headmistress!" He greeted them with an incline of his head. His voice was soft, not what McGonagall had expected. Yet it was deep and carry a note of mystery. She could feel a touch of pink on her cheek bones. The almost non-existent smirk intrigued her more than ever.

"Have a seat Mr. Jamison. I assume you are well prepared for the upcoming term." Headmaster looked at him from above his half moon spectacles. His blue eyes bright in triumph at pulling one on his deputy. Said deputy glared at both headmaster and professor, but the glare held no heat.

"All set headmaster." Jamison sat down at the staff table on left side of head seat and across from the deputy headmistress. The new DADA professor and Headmaster discussed the lesson plan Jamison had prepared. He was extremely intelligent but not boastful. She could tell he had wells and wells of knowledge inside of him yet he didn't have the habit of speaking out of term. He was steadily answering the twisted questions of headmaster while retaining the calmness in his stance. Not many people can remain that calm in vicinity of the great Albus Dumbledore. She thought. He reminded her strongly of someone but she couldn't put her finger on to whom he resembled. Minerva McGonagall could read people very well in just one meeting but today all her talents lacked her, as she failed to pinpoint if she had succeeded in reading this man at all.

"Welcome to the staff Mr. Jamison. We'll let you settle in your rooms. Join us in the Great Hall for Welcoming feast, would you?" Headmaster shook hands with Jamison, as they both stood up to leave the staff lounge

"Of course headmaster."

"You can call me Albus, Professor Jamison as all my staff do." Merry blue eyes met the dark brown ones.

"Its Ryder then, headmaster." With a small smirk, Ryder left the staff lounge. He was now more than ready to start the new term. All was going to be well.

* * *

After spending the tenacious half an hour settling in his rooms and office he was ready to have a lie down in his bed after such a long day, but the welcoming feast was something he couldn't miss. It would cause a lot of unwanted questions, and that was the thing he couldn't afford. He locked his quarters with a little flick of his hand, and a barely heard hissed password. He started the long walk towards the great hall. Things as these celebrations had lost appeal to him since a long time ago. Colours, friendships, laughter, family, happiness were the words that held no meaning for him. Yet when they see him in the facade he had created for himself, they mistook him for the most joyous guy they had ever met. The walking man smirked to himself. As he was approaching the great hall, his senses flared with the very familiar scent. A scent he hadn't encountered in past six years. The walking man stopped abruptly in his steps, his eyes going wide. No, no, this was not possible at all. They weren't supposed to be here. As his dampened hearing now just caught the whisper of footsteps, he hurried to hide himself in the shadows of alcove near the empty rooms in the corridor. After a few moments, his shoulders stiffened as the reason of his surprise walked past the alcove, he was concealed in. He took a deep breath to confirm what his eyes were seeing and what his instincts screamed at him. This was cruel. Fate was playing a horrible game with him, because in front of his very eyes Professor Snape was walking towards the great hall accompanied by Professor Malfoys, Lord and Heir both. He wanted to turn around and ran from there, away, far away from them. They were supposed to be on a world tour for the next five years, not here, where he had came to live for once in his life, battling all his demons and emotions away. This was horrendous, and not fair at all. He would never had came here, was he aware of their presence. His breathing became difficult, a tell tale of panic. He willed himself to calm down. It would not do to lose his cool. He would deal with this. He would not let this decision be taken away from his control. Now he would be the only judge of his situation, and he would be the Jury to decide next step of his life, not them or anyone else. Steeling his resolve, Ryder Jamison brought forth his 'talents' to mask his emotions masterfully and the joyous face was placed back as he stepped out of his hidden spot and carried his tread towards the Great Hall. The spidery silver strands in his eyes faded away as he reached the door to great hall.

The Great Hall was brilliant as ever. For a moment, a cocoon of nostalgia wrapped around him. His eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table. How good were those days. They were few but golden, his golden days. A longing griped at his heart, but he slapped it away as he was used to do. He kept his expressions carefully neutral and easy, as the fourteen pairs of eyes took in his every step. His eyes surveyed the seating at the staff table. Headmaster sat on the head chair. To his right, Deputy Headmistress sat going through the list of students, no doubt first years. Next to her sat Filius Flitwick. Ryder was rather fond of the small man. His easy going attitude was the best of his personality trait and the most dangerous of his combat tactics. They took him easy when they see him. He smirked inwardly to himself. Pomona Sprout, Aurora Sinistra, Septima Vector, Rolanda Hooch, and Rubius Hagrid sat in order next to Head of Ravenclaw house. On the left of headmaster sat Potions master, Severus Snape. Next to him were Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Charity Burbage, Poppy Pomfrey and Madam Pince.

Next to Draco Malfoy, a seat was left empty. His lips parted, as he inhaled sharply. That was the only outward reaction of his surprise, which went unnoticed by almost everyone. Pushing all his feelings behind his occlumency shields he walked gracefully towards the empty seat. He was not so fragile. He knew how to control his emotions and discipline his mind. A lazy smirk appeared on his face as he pulled the left off seat and sat himself down.

* * *

Draco Malfoy hummed to himself as he took his seat next to his father at the staff table. New term meant new DADA professor, and new DADA professor meant new entertainment. He snorted. Even 18 years after the Dark Lord's demise at the hands of baby Potter, they were still afraid of the so called curse on the particular position. He had greatly enjoyed those Dullards since he had joined Hogwarts staff. He was responsible for introducing the muggle borns to the magical word by teaching them the proper etiquettes of magical society. He took great pleasure in his job. His attention snapped to the young man who entered the Great Hall, no doubt new DADA professor as students weren't due for next twenty minutes. The young newcomer surveyed the seating arrangement with a sweeping glance and joined them at the table. Draco studied him through the corner of his eyes. He was sitting there with a grace, calm and content. His expressions neutral, never giving way to his original thoughts or point of views. He casually talked with Burbage about some muggle technology. His voice was soft and low, a lot like Severus. His lips moved very little as he talked, but his words were clear. He was polite and courteous yet undeniably formal. He talked and laughed, but he was always high on alert, used to keeping upper hand in the situation. He was nudging the muggle studies professor to lead the conversation, and was masterfully steering it away from himself. There was an undeniable barrier that separated him from them. It was as though he was forced to grow, to give up his childhood before his time. He didn't talk like a man of twenty. He talked as though he had lived hundreds of years already. He was a stranger yet he was familiar. A far away feeling grasped him as he looked at the new teacher. Draco felt as though something was missing. An important detail, or a hint. Must be his paranoia he thought to himself. Grey eyes still held suspicion and confusion. He turned towards the new professor who by then was done chatting with Burbage.

"Hello. I get you are new Defense professor." He said by the way of starting conversation.

"You would be right Mr.?" An elegant eyebrow rose up to touch the curly lock, swinging gently on the pale forehead.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He smiled at the curly haired man.

"Hm. Professor Malfoy I am Ryder Jamison, new Defense professor."

He chatted with Ryder until the students started coming to the great hall and McGonagall left her seat to collect the first years. They fell silent as the sorting hat sung song and sorted the students. The headmaster then introduced DADA professor and they all tucked into their dinner, as was the custom of Hogwarts.

The night progressed as usual for them all as the welcoming feast came to an end. They left the great hall and went towards their respective quarters. Every house this year has gotten almost fifty new students which was an impressive progress after the horrors of Dark that had curtained their society. His thoughts then revolved around Ryder Jamison, while waiting for the sleep to claim him. If he confessed to himself that he was quite a bit attracted to Ryder then he would pretend that it was only a dream. Draco Malfoy was not attracted to a human while he was an important vampire of Silver eye coven.

* * *

Ryder Jamison closed and warded the door behind him as he entered his living quarters. He let out his breath in a harsh pant. His chocolate brown eyes turned silver as he paced around his living room. Even after six years he was still afraid. He was scared of breaking again. It had took him six long years to collect the scattered pieces of his being and brought them together. New face, new identity didn't change the battered and isolated soul that was his only asset. An enormous hot white wave of rage threatened to overcame him. He wanted to tear everything apart. To destroy them who took his parents, his family away. To destroy those who discarded him away when he was of no use to them. He wanted to scream, to cry, to weep and to ask why why it was always him. What had he ever done to anyone, but what good would it do to him. Nothing. He wouldn't get his parents back, and just like that the blinding rage was over ruled by the helplessness, his old friend. A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he fell down to his knees and rested his hot forehead on the floor of his living quarters. His eyes were closed as he repeated a pattern of in and out breathing and calming himself down. After a few long moments, he stood up from the floor and stumbled to his bedroom. The full moon shone brightly in the sky washing it in its grandeur silver mist, and projecting milky white beams in his bedroom. It looked as gloomy as the inner self of the occupant. Ryder sat down heavily in one of the chairs near the windows. He folded his arms on the wooden table in front of him, and placed his head on the folded arms. His silver brown gaze fixed on the moon. Who was he now, he asked himself. The answer was his tumultuous thoughts. The enormous tide of emotions were weighing his self control down. Longing, envy, jealousy, trepidation, hurt, distrust. He was scared to face them even if he wouldn't accept it. He was weak to hide behind the blank walls, but he didn't know anything else did he? No one took time to teach him to face his own self. He desperately grasped what he knew of occlumency. Anything to escape feelings. Numbness was best, wasn't it. The blankness slowly surrounded his mind and senses. Two tiny red droplets dripped on his forearm as the blankness of his mind mocked him. Several drops followed, and made the small stream of crimson they all feared. He was unaware. Unaware of any sounds, unaware of any smell and unaware of his own self. He was lost in the nothingness which was guarded by blank walls. Where there was nothing, no feelings, no emotions and no himself, the rejected orphan.

The bang of golden magic, his own magic exploding shattered the blank walls around him and he jerked back from the table. He stared ironically at the pool of blood collected on the table and his arms, a few drops still trickling down his chin. Its been three years since he had last occluded himself of himself. He shook his head to get rid of the sweet stupor. He winced as he came to himself. The headache he would host for next few days would be enough of punishment for almost killing himself. He didn't need to hear from headmaster about strange bangs coming from his quarters. As the young vampire cleaned the table and himself of the crimson liquid, he promised himself to rein his emotions and reactions in. It was time for the lie down he had been craving since before the welcoming feast. He laid down on his bed and turned away from the moon, as though giving it the cold shoulder for all the sufferings bestowed upon him.

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**A/N: Hope you all liked it. Tell your thoughts in the comments below if you want. :)**

**P.S: English is not my first language.**

**Bye! See you all soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello guys! I hope this chapter finds you in the best of health and spirits. There are a few things I would like to mention before you read the chapter. **

**The vampires in this story would be more like normal humans, just more powerful with a few extra appendages. **

**There may be mistakes in there as I don't have a beta, so please ignore as I have tried to review it as best as I could with my busy **_**real **_**life, and all that. **

**This fanfiction is a thing that I am doing for myself, a thing that makes me happy. If it doesn't meet your expectations, no need for hate, you can just stop reading it. And if you like it, I am really happy I could bring a smile to your face, or take your worries away for a while. **

**Having said that, lets proceed to the chapter. Happy Reading!**

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**Chapter no 2**

The first thing that came to his sleep ridden mind was trepidation, he was going to be standing on the other side of the dais today, he didn't know if he was worthy of being there, but be as it may he was going to do his best, and mark a place for himself in this mad mad world because he was tired, tired of fighting for his very existence, tired of being left alone, and tired of being away from his only home. He wanted to be normal like others, he wanted to feel happiness as they feel, and he wanted to stop this haunting numbness that had plagued him for years. Rubbing a hand tiredly over his face he got out of bed to get ready to face the world that scared him beyond words, yet it was crucial for his survival. He had been away from his origin, and from his Sire for too long , it was inevitable that he spent next few years of his life here at Hogwarts, if not in the arms of his Sire. He made a strange noise in the back of his throat as his thoughts turned towards his Sire. The person he hated most, needed most, and feared most. He sometimes hated himself for needing them, and sometimes the longing to be near them, to touch them, and to drink the essence that was his right from the beginning became overbearing, dancing like a itch on his entire being, leaving him distraught, and disgusted with himself. He had came here thinking that his sire would be away, but he was here in flesh and blood, and the indifference he would show towards Ryder scared him. He wanted to be recognized and acknowledged by his sire, he realized with a start. No matter how much he told himself otherwise, it was an ugly truth. He dry heaved into the basin, his anxiety catching up with his depression. He splashed cold water on his face, his body trembling with anticipation, and tremor at the prospect of facing his Sire. His heart ached for soothing, and kind words from his Sire, but he knew that would occur only in his wildest dreams. The young vampire leaning against the basin dry sobbed with helplessness. Nothing had never been in his control, not even his own life. He would have to live with all these aches and desires as he had been living for several years. Life wasn't fair he knew that much, but what could he do, nothing. He couldn't make them love him, hell he couldn't make people accept him, love was a cry far away. He opened his eyes and took deep breathes, to calm himself down.

"I don't need anyone."

"I don't need anyone."

"I don't need anyone." He repeated the mantra over and over again.

Splashing the cold water on his face once again, the young man emptied his mind of all thoughts and emotions. It would be difficult to be normal in front of them, but it wouldn't be impossible. He had lived so many years without them, he would manage the rest too. He soothed himself by hugging his arms around himself.

"Its okay Ryder. Mum and dad loved you."

He whispered as though comforting someone other than himself. And when he left his rooms to face the day, the scared and scarred child was buried deep inside the shields, and the warrior was there who was used to fighting for his very life.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy sat at the back of the Defense classroom. He had been there since morning, and it was the third class of the day. The new Dada professor was competent, he had impressed Lucius, and that was saying something. He knew his material, and he knew how to deliver it to students. Lucius hadn't seen Defense classroom this silent since Severus had been in charge of teaching Defense . Students were completely immersed in his lecture, and that had been the case since morning. At present, he was teaching the fifth years how to conjure a patronus, and one hour into the lecture, almost half the class could conjure patroni, and many of them have already progressed to corporeal patronus.

"Well done! You have all done very well indeed. Keep practicing and you will master it soon enough." His soft voiced carried throughout the classroom. He appeared to be proud of the efforts of his students.

"Now, can anyone tell me, how you can use your patronus for sending messages?" No hand rose up to answer the question. The students were intently listening to him, their faces showing hunger, and curiosity for information. They seemed far interested in gaining knowledge rather than giving. Lucius smiled inwardly, the teacher was indeed very good.

"The incantation for both purposes of patronus are same: 'expecto petronum'. Then what it is that made the patronus messenger instead of guardian?" He asked them. The class was utterly silent and still, one could hear the beating of hearts in the silence, not even the scratching of quills could be heard.

"Its intent. When you speak incantation your intent defines it to be a messenger, or a guardian." He spoke smoothly, much like Severus, Lucius noted. He made his remarks in the booklet about Jamison, and they were the words that had marked for Jamison the position he had wanted for himself. Lucius closed his remarking book and turned his attention back towards the professor.

"I want you all to read page 142, and write one foot essay on the effect of your intention on magic or specifically Patronus Charm, and how can you use it to your advantage in a battle field, due next Monday." Ryder Paused. "In the next class, we would practice sending messages using our patroni. Class dismissed."

Lucius made his way to the front of the class, as the students were filing out of the class.

"That was excellent Professor Jamison. I am impressed, and I know that headmaster, and Governors would be happy to have a competent teacher like yourself. Welcome to the Staff." Jamison shook his hand with a small smile on his face, but a small tense wrinkling by the right eye didn't went unnoticed by either of the men.

"Thank you Professor Malfoy." Jamison said with his lips still curled into a polite smile, but his eyes held wariness that Lucius hadn't seen for himself since a decade. Lucius was sure that Jamison didn't know about him being a vampire just yet, then what was it that was making him wary of Lucius. The more he looked into the deep brown eyes, the stronger the feeling of wrongness became. There was something familiar about this man, may be it was the judgmental gleam in his eyes that had flared the feeling of familiarity. The young man must have some idea about him being a creature, may be he himself was a creature, but Lucius couldn't pick up the scent associated with magical creatures. As if reading his thoughts, Jamison broke eye contact with him, and when he looked at Lucius again his eyes were clear, like warm brown mirrors that gave you security about yourself. A surprising control of occlumency for someone so young, Lucius couldn't help but notice.

"I'll see you soon professor Jamison." Lucius told him as a way of farewell, and Jamison nodded in return, never breaking eye contact as though challenging him to say aloud his observations. Lucius merely smirked in return. He liked this young man, he was acting just like young vampires who aren't intimidated by anyone save their Sire, but shame he wasn't a vampire. Lucius thought as he exited the classroom.

* * *

The rest of the classes went as usual, he had succeeded in not only impressing Lucius and students, but the staff as well. He hoped that it was enough to anchor him to Hogwarts for a few upcoming years. The aching burn that had became his shadow for the past seven years had subsided due to close presence of his Sire, but soon it would not be enough, but Ryder was not ready to think about that just yet.

He could hear the students whispering excitedly with their neighbors as he entered the great hall, and the impressed stares of the staff. Curling his lips in a polite smile he joined his colleagues at the staff table. Their compliments, and congratulations left him with warm floaty feeling, they had all not only accepted him, but also they were treating him with respect and equity, his heart felt considerably lighter than this morning. At last he had made his place midst them for a few years if not forever, he thought. Joys, even this small had deserted his life long ago, thus for him it was a great deal, and he meant to cherish it as long as he could. It was with these feelings that he tucked into his lunch. Things would be alright for him as well as for them.

* * *

It had been a fortnight since the welcoming feast. New and old students were settling alike. These two weeks of classes had gone well than he had imagined. May be he had a knack for teaching. He had genuinely enjoyed teaching those little blighters. He could still feel the warm foreign feeling he felt whenever his students beamed at him, telling him that he was their favorite among them all, or when their eyes brightened when they got their questions answered satisfactorily. His colleagues loved to chat with him, and they hoped that he would be the one to break the infamous curse on the Dada post. He hoped that he could teach, and stay here forever, but this was not how this world works, he thought. He would be people's favorite till he was of use, of benefit to them. But he would become a nuisance when he would outgrow his use. Then he will have to earn his keep for their daily endurance of his persona. He didn't want to be used just as a cruse breaker for this post, he want to stay here at Hogwarts as a Dada teacher, a wistful sigh left his lips as he locked, and left his office after taking the last class of the day. The curly haired man walking down the corridors looked exhausted. There were shadows underneath his eyes. An ever present aura of gloom that surrounded him was tenfold visible today. He was afraid it might tell the others he wasn't feeling too well. Of course he was neglecting his basic needs, but not in way of sleeping or eating. He needed elixir of life, blood. But he was stalling the inevitable trip to the forbidden forest. He knew Silver Coven was present there, and they had been there for quite sometime or years. He knew that his intrusion would be thought of as an attack to their territory. He sighed, but if he went by another night without feeding, he would not be able to function at all. His occlumency and other shields, suppressing his scent would collapse, and he would be discovered and he didn't want that. He was through and through with them, and their changing colors. He sat down on the black couch in his living room. He was really tired. Sometimes it was too much for him. Loneliness, starvation for acceptance, the eerie silence of his quarters all got to him badly. He wanted to leave the world, to waste away, to hide from all these feelings. He closed his eyes, and rested his head on the back of the couch, rubbing his chest as though soothing the pain away.

_"You know Ry! you should talk to them." A dreamy voice echoed in his mind. _

_"I don't have anyone to talk to except you." The voice was a bit high pitched, laced with emotions. He was lying. And he knew that she knew. _

_"You can't lie to me Ry. I can't see you like this. Fighting with your own self like that."_

_"I am not fighting. I am the happiest I've ever been." _

_"Ry! Temporary happiness is not what you want. You need permanency."_

_"You give me that. "_

_"I won't be here for long."_ The echo grew softer and softer. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of his room. The chandelier was a magnificent candle holder. It was adorned with burning candles, bathing the room in sapphire yellow. It reflected in his brown eyes, giving them an ethereal glow.

_"I want to die." He had said suddenly one day. _

_"We all do, Ry." She had whispered. _

_"I want to now. But I can't bring my self to do it. To kill myself." The last part was softly breathed. He wasn't sure if she had heard. _

_"That's because you're brave, Ry." She was aware of his thoughts like always, wasn't she. He felt ashamed for saying that now. He averted his eyes down to the small rocks that were lying near their feet. He picked up one and threw it into the stream, they were sitting beside. He could still feel her gaze on his forearms, that were covered in long black sleeves. His head ducked further in shame. _

_The clear royal blue waters of the stream swirled and shifted, he was now gazing in her ocean blue eyes. She was leaving him that day. He could tell as soon as he saw her eyes. They were dull. He knew this day was coming. Still it felt like a vicious blow to his chest, that took all his air away from him, leaving him empty once and for all. His eyes turned silver as tears fell from them._

_"Please don't go." _

_"I am sorry, Ry."_

_"Please. I c-can't. I-I'll die."_

_"No Ryder! Promise me. Promise me that you would never harm yourself. Please Ry." Her voice was wet. She moved forward, and placed her hands on his cheeks, wiping the tears away. She leaned forward and kissed him on his lips. A soft peck. _

_"I promise." A soft whisper left his lips. _

_And then she turned around, and left. He saw her getting smaller and smaller until he couldn't see her anymore. His chest heaved as the soft sobs escaped him. He felt so bare like his clothes were ripped away from him, and he was standing in the night of heavy snowfall. Where there was snow everywhere, and he couldn't find any warmth to keep him alive, to keep him going. _

He took a shuddery breath as he willed his thoughts away. He had suppressed his emotions masterfully for last six years. Why were they surfacing now and why all old wounds were being opened. He rubbed his forehead. He was a mess. A few things that he was keen of doing were losing their charm since he had came here. May be it wasn't a great decision. He should have kept miles away from here. He was 20 years old now, not some sniveling child who need cuddles, and reassurance of his sire to keep him content at night to sleep without nightmares. Or was he. He closed his eyes once more to escape the truth he was terrified of.

"Its not true, I came here only to live what was left of my life." He paused, burying his head in his hands he screamed

"No no no, I didn't come here for him. I don't want him." Who he was trying to convince he wasn't sure of it, and no matter how much tried to tell himself the reasons of him coming here, his mind knew clearly what had him there. And there was no hiding from himself. The distraught man screamed again. The scream was full of agonizing pain, longing, and hurt. It also reflected his helplessness to control his longing for them . But it had always been just like that, helplessness, his only friend.

* * *

The moon was nowhere to be seen, and the grounds of Hogwarts looked hauntingly beautiful hosting the beautiful castle lit with thousands of yellow orange torches. It was the magnificence of Hogwarts light or no light it stood as proudly as he had seen for the first time nine years ago. He moved silently through the forbidden forest. It was pitch black in the forest. The deep dyed darkness was thicker than the darkness of Hogwarts grounds, but he was fully aware. His senses were fully awake today. His eyes sharp, and his ears focused for the smallest of the sounds. His breathing deep to direct him towards his prey, or away from potential danger. He moved stealthily out of the thick trees, and towards the herd of stallions. The black and white stallions. He smiled softly. He walked slowly towards the one standing a little away from the herd. It was unaware of the predator it would fell pray to. He sidled towards it enveloping the shadows of night around him. He could see its jugular vein pulsing rapidly, giving a sweet invitation. He placed his hands around the beast's neck, circled it, and sent a spark of his magic through it. The stallion lulled to sleep. He bent down as his fangs extended, few drops of his own blood staining his shirt. He pierced the vein, and drank the bitter sweet blood. He took the blood he could without killing the beautiful stallion, and healed it with a flick of his tongue, his eyes glistening piercing silver as though he was wearing silver glittered lenses. He rested for a second against the stallion, waiting for the euphoria of drinking blood calm down. He then pulled out a beast friendly blood replenishing potion, and spelled it into the stallion's stomach. He was a predator, but he wasn't heartless like those who drained their victims of their lives. He only took enough to sustain his own body, and to not do serious damage to the victim. And he took pride in it. It was the way he retained some of the humanity that taken away from him without his consent. As the euphorbia ran its way, he felt the similar agonizing pain in his gums where his fangs had pierced them. He sighed. He had done anything he could to settle down, or numb the pain, but it won't go away. _Only the sire's blood could take it away._ He thought sarcastically, and then chuckled. The only reason the other younglings didn't have this problem was because they were converted the traditional way, but he was not. He was pierced in his wrist with the venom of his Sire by means of a muggle syringe. He hadn't had the blessing of even one drop of his Sire's blood, let alone the first few years of feedings essential for a youngling like him. Yes, he was converted when he wasn't even thirteen. Younglings couldn't survive without their Sire for first few years yet he had survived, and survived for seven years. He had always been a freak, hadn't he. He maliciously thought once again. How ironic it was. He had such a compassion, love and sympathy for every other being, but for himself. May be all the hate he ever had in him was reserved for his own self. He took a deep breath. The bleeding in his gum had subsided, but the pain won't go away for few long days.

The night was quite and calm, the gentle breeze ruffled his hair like a mother would do to her child. He settled down more comfortably against the slumbering stallion. It was a small clearing between the thick crowd of trees, quite difficult to be found. The sky was clear with twinkling stars bejeweling it. He closed his eyes relishing in the warmth the stallion was emitting. May be he had dozed off for a while because as he jerked awake successfully startling the now awake stallion, he became aware of the buzz of a conversations he could feel against his skin. He carefully lowered the shields, protecting him from going mad due to his super vampire hearing. Yes, all vampires had super human hearing, but he had super vampire hearing. Better of them all. He had almost gone deaf when he had first discovered it. But soon he had learnt to control his instincts. He had a firm grasp on his instincts, stronger and tighter than fully fledged vampires, but risky for his own health. It was prone to happen because he had taught himself everything. He focused his hearing towards the general area the buzz was coming from. The first sound that penetrated his mind was the hissing and crackling of the fire and the rustling of clothes. There was company nearby, no doubt the silver coven. They wouldn't sense him he was sure because he had his shields carefully in place. They were talking just a few moments ago he was sure, and that was what had woken him up. He stood up from against the animal, causing it to run back to its herd, the youngling vampire summoned the shadows around him, and hid in the trees. No reason to make them suspicious. As he settled down, he could once again hear the conversation.

"Papa! That was awesome. I didn't know you still had it in your old bones." Draco Malfoy's voice was thick with laughter.

"Careful son you are still a youngling and not too old to be over my knees." Lucius Malfoy's equally mischievous voice said.

"Aww papa. Lets ask dad's view about it."

"You know Draco, your father was converted at twenty five, and we stay like that unless under eighteen so there I wouldn't say anything. And yes you are not too old for a trip over the knees, but you actually need one I am sure of it." The man finished his sentence and chuckled. The youngling hidden in the trees froze. That was Professor Snape, wasn't he? But why Draco was calling him dad he had no idea. Their laughter echoed in the woods. Ryder closed his eyes, and backed away against the tree as though trying to fold in on himself. His expressions hurt. Their playful bickering reflecting off of his mind without registering its meaning.

"Yes. Ryder Jamison. Quite an unusual name for a wizard, but an excellent wizard nonetheless" Lord Malfoy mentioning his name brought him back to the earth. He blinked a few times to rid of the ghosts of his past still lingering just behind his eyes.

"He is quite good at his subject. I hear Slytherins talking about him. He has become their favorite. Apparently he isn't biased towards any house, and his teaching methods are- and I quote- just as hot as he himself is." It was Snape who had replied.

"Yes Severus. He is very good. You know he is very much like yourself. If I didn't know any better, I would say you sired him." Lucius Malfoy said. The words cut deep wounds in the tattered heart of the hidden youngling, and Ryder closed his eyes dejectedly.

"But I was saying about how he reacts dad, papa." Draco whined. He was so comfortable with them. He almost envied the blonde.

"Are you ogling a human drake?"

Lucius laughed.

"N-no. Uh w-well he's cute and its not like I am about to convert him." Draco stuttered. The young professor sitting in the tree canopy went rigid. This wasn't what he expected when he had decided to eavesdrop on the little family. He flinched at his own thoughts. It was too suffocating for him to remain there for another moment. He shed all the shadows wrapped around him, and ran at his full speed to escape his self made prison.

* * *

The next morning had started as a bright sunny Saturday morning, but the sky was deep grey with clouds now. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, third years, and up were treating themselves with Zonko's and other treats. Professor Ryder was sitting at the table in the Three broomsticks with a butter bear placed in front of him. He didn't seem interested in the beverage. His Choco brown eyes looked more beautiful with the spidery crimson threads swimming in the whites of his eyes. His eyes were a bit lidded as though in pain, or extreme comfort. They were fixed on the foggy window he was sitting by. Draco Malfoy looked from the enchanting eyes towards the once again handsome face. The shadows under the eyes were considerably less. He must have a good night sleep. He thought. Something in him compelled to join the younger professor at his table. He walked slowly towards the table in the back corner, and stopped just near the table. The occupant wasn't aware of his presence. He softly knocked the table top with his knuckles and said:

"Professor Jamison, may I join you here?" A strange expression appeared on Ryder's face. Before he could decipher its meaning, it was replaced with the calm reverence he always had for his fellow colleagues. He was indeed a very interesting man.

"Yeah. Sure." Reply was short and stiff. There was something wrong with the man. Draco could tell. The brown eyes returned to their former endeavor. The man wasn't in any mood to talk today. He was stiff and rigid as in pain. The blonde man studied the enigma in front of him while sipping his butter bear. He was very attractive. Alright he conceded. He has hots for this defense professor.

"Are you in pain, Ryder?" He asked casually.

"No." A monotonous answer.

"I can see that you are." The man didn't bother with a reply this time.

"I just have a toothache, nothing serious." It was said in a flat tone after a pregnant pause.

"Nothing serious. Its the most horrible pain one could have." Blonde man said exasperated.

"May be for you." _Is he a machine? _thought blonde. _What's with all these toneless answers. _

"You should take a pain reliever." He continued.

"I am immune to them." He answered still not looking at Draco.

"My dad, professor Snape, he is a potions master. He can brew for you that will solve your problem." The man across from Draco stiffened. His fists clenched. He turned his face to look at Draco. The Malfoy heir was taken aback at the amount of anger in the eyes. The windows shuddered as the thunderstorm hit outside. The eyes he previously so badly wanted to look at him was unnerving him now. He placed a hand on the clenched fist on the table. Ryder Jamison snatched his hand away from the blonde. His expressions became more furious if possible. Draco stared at him, his expression hurt, and stunned. The lightning blinked through the window panes. The brown gaze flickered with silver strands. Ryder turned, and left the pub. The gaping Malfoy looked helplessly at the retreating back.

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**Tbc….! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer : All belongs to J. K. Rowlings and co. Only plot is mine**

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**A/N: Thank you all for the follows, and favorites. You all have made my day. Here's next chapter. Hope you like it. Happy Reading!**

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**TRIGGER WARNING: Self harm in this chapter. **

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**Chapter no 3**

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"How dare he! How fucking dare he!" Intense silver eyes were like lasers as he paced in his quarters. He was highly agitated, and his anger was increasing instead of diminishing. He wanted to rip Malfoy's throat out and present it on a platter to the werewolves. He clenched his fists. Malfoy was the reason he was not only sire-less but also coven-less, he thought with scorn, and now he dared to hit on him, and present him with his saint of a dad's help. If not for Malfoy, he would have his Sire, wouldn't he?

_"I didn't Sire him, nor do I want to ever."_

_"Arrogant just like his father."_

_"I wouldn't Sire him, even if he were the last of human species in the whole universe." _

A sharp echo pierced his shields, and the words bled into his head. The anger subsided immediately and completely. No it wasn't Malfoy, it was him, he was revolting, disgusting, and pathetic. It was all him, no one else. His sire hated him, and he wanted to hate him too, but his disgusting, and needy, and pathetic self wanted his sire so badly it hurt.

"You lost Ryder, you pathetic liar, you want him. You want your sire badly. "

"No its not true, I-I don't..." He paused, and stared at his reflection in the window. It was true, wasn't it. He wanted his sire. The dawning realization shook him to his core, and he trembled.

"But he doesn't want you, does he?" the sing song voice taunted him as he clawed at his arms wanting some sort of escape. Escape wasn't possible. He couldn't escape from himself, he was a prisoner who was sentenced for life.

He leaned against the window, the feelings of horror, intense loneliness, sadness, and the inner cry for help were as loud as a piercing scream. His crumbling resolve broke completely under the assault of the emotions, and the youngling punched the living room window, the glass broke with a resounding shatter. He stood there for sometime frozen in his tracks as the blood dripped from his injured hand. His eyes gazed at the shattered window, and at the rubies dripping from his knuckles, they were oddly satisfying, distracting, and beautiful.

He kneeled down near the pile of broken glass, and picked up a piece of glass. He looked at it almost adoringly, griping it tightly, he got up dazedly, and moved towards the bathroom. He walked over to stare in the mirror, it only held his reflection, and no reassurances or answers were visible there for him. It reflected the deathly pale fledgling, eyes flickering brownish silver like a moth dancing to the allure of the flame. The blood dripping from his hands stained the white tiles of bathroom. They looked beautiful, didn't they? He wanted more to make the tiles look more pretty. His shirt disappeared, leaving him in sleeveless under shirt. He traced the blue veins under his skin with the glass, The leaving a thin line oozing red in its wake.

"_Freak_"

glass sliced deeper into the porcelain skin.

_"Good for nothing." _

Another cut.

"_Murderer_."

Cut.

_"Lily and James died because of him."_

Another cut.

_"We don't want him."_

Another deeper cut.

"_I wouldn't Sire him, even if he were the last of human species in the whole universe_."

_"No-one loves you, you freak boy. Severus hates you more than the Devil itself."_

_"He is disappointed in you."_

_"I don't want him."_

Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten, and the blood continued to flow freely.

"I don't want me too." He whispered, the glass piece slipped from his blood soaked limp fingers, dropped onto the ground, and shattered into hundreds of pieces.

* * *

"Good evening gentlemen and ladies." Albus Dumbledore addressed his professors, gathered in the staffroom for the meeting. The professors greeted him in return. They all were very happy, vibrating with the emotions he was incapable of feeling. He felt perplexed by their happiness.

"I am sure you are all as excited as our students are." Several professors chuckled. They were indeed very excited, some even more than their students.

"Lucius you have got approval from the board of governors." Headmaster asked Lucius. Like every year they were organizing different clubs for the students. Dueling club, fencing club, horseback riding, muggle karate club, boxing club, catering club, and beauty club. After war, the acceptance of muggle born by pure blood society had opened gates to many exciting activities as well as inventions that could work well with magic, and their world was slowly progressing towards the modern era.

"Yes headmaster. Here are the papers. All the clubs have been granted approval, but underage students would require consent of their guardians, and head of houses to join these clubs." He passed the rolled up parchments to Headmaster, and sat down in his seat once again. Albus studied the official papers with twinkling eyes. The infernal twinkle increasing as he reached the end. He folded the parchment and gazed merrily at Ryder, he was extremely pleased with Ryder, and at whatever he had just read. Cold anticipation sped down his spine, Ryder shivered invisibly, clamping his jaw shut, waiting for the inevitable.

"So my dear professors organize clubs like you have been doing for years; however I would like professor Snape, and Professor Malfoy Sr. to include Professor Jamison in their dueling club this year." He smiled at Ryder who sat limp in his chair, not wanting to believe what he had just heard. So his first ever test had arrived, at least his earlier episode had dampened his emotions quite well, he sighed, and got ready to face professor Snape, his sire and his scorn for him. His control was flaking away slowly day by day, and he knew it too, but there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He wanted to give up the control and curl up to sleep for a long time, but no one was there to bear the weight of his control for him.

"You all are free to go. Severus, Lucius, and Ryder please stay behind." All the staff members filed out of the room while Severus and Lucius talked among themselves about the arrangements of dueling club. Ryder sat gazing out of the window, tracing the lazy movements of giant squid in the black lake with his eyes.

"I don't know where this path will lead me. I hope its peace or death." He thought smiling grimly.

"Tea gentlemen?" Albus asked. Three cups floated in front of Severus, Lucius and Ryder as they moved to sit near the headmaster. Albus, Severus and Lucius added cubes of sugar to taste to their cups, but he didn't. He liked his tea bitter, bitter like every other thing in his life, but at least this was bitter by choice. These small controls were his crutches to edge himself away from insanity.

"So Ryder how are you settling in your rooms and office. Are you classrooms up to your standards? Anything you need?" Albus asked him.

"Windows." The other three occupants of the rooms stared at him. Ryder blinked, and as his mind caught up with what he had just said, he cursed himself for being so stupid. He coughed to cover up his slip up.

"Everything is good headmaster. I am settling in just fine." He said, making confidant eye contact with headmaster. He didn't want them to get suspicious of him. He was having enough of trouble already with his wayward emotions, he didn't want them after him on top of that.

"Good. Child, you would come to me whenever you need something, won't you?" Headmaster looked at him pointedly. Albus wasn't as fooled as Ryder would have wanted, but at least he was letting it go, and that was more than enough for him. He wanted to laugh himself silly at the offer or bawl hysterically. If only headmaster knew who you were, a part of him sneered. He barely suppressed his flinch disguising it with a nod at the ancient man. I wish you could hold me, and let me hide myself in your arms. Somewhere someone whined tearfully, but he buried the pitiful child away. You filthy creature, you deserve to be alone. The hatred distracted him from the disgusting thoughts of his traitor mind. Headmaster nodded back at him satisfied.

"Then lets discuss dueling club my boys." They all nodded their consent. Up till now the other two occupants had been silent, but now Lucius moved forward in his chair.

"I think Albus, we should tell Mr. Jamison about our _ah_ condition, you know, so he won't get alarmed by some of our activities." Lucius said, a hint of sarcasm underlying his tone, and Ryder wanted to laugh, Lucius had not forgotten his expressions when they had first met. He wasn't afraid of Vampires in general, he was afraid of them, the silver coven, even if Ryder wouldn't accept it aloud, he was scared of them like no-one else, but he wanted his coven too.

"Ah I see. Ryder, Professor Severus Snape and Professor Malfoys are vampires of Silver Coven like Harry Pott-" He flinched. "er and many other gentlemen and ladies." At his flinch the twinkle in the gentle blue eyes dimmed.

"Is it going to be a problem, Ryder?" This time a warning was underlying his tone.

"No Sir." He replied before dropping his eyes and swallowing. Harry Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. He was dead. Damn. This is not happening. Please dear God no. No no no no. Dark brown eyes scanned the room as the rapid breathing was forced under control.

"Are you alright, Ryder?" Albus asked frowning, all traces of warning gone from his face. Severus and Lucius were facing towards him now.

"N-not good experience with them." He whispered clenching his fists and digging his nails in his palms. It was difficult to be so close to them yet so so far away. I_ wish I wasn't me_. He felt dirty, like he was covered in dirt, that made him revolting to touch or love. He longed to clean the dirt away, he longed to be clean, to be accepted, and to be loved.

"What happened, child?" The inquiry was soft, it made him want to break down and bawl. He drew in a shaky breath, willing the images that collided with his occlumency walls away. He closed his eyes tightly, as though scared of them.

"My fa-family." He couldn't say anymore, he wasn't in any position to sprout solid lies, and only the truth would come out in this condition. He abruptly stood up from the chair and towards the window. He leaned against the window, and took deep breathes to calm himself down, there wasn't anyway they could make connections between him and Harry Potter. He reinforced his shields, and wound them tightly around himself. Getting his breathing under control he opened his eyes, the thin silver strands died away as his shields were reinforced. Forcing a polite smile back on his face, he turned around, ready to tell tales of his family's demise, but he was surprised to find them looking at him with sympathy.

"I am sorry for your lose, my boy." Headmaster paused thinking of words to calm his fears.

Oh they thought that his family was killed by vampires, as had happened with quite a number of families before a truce was established between the ministry and the vampires, and they were given rights to be a part of society with a promise of stake to heart if they harmed or converted any other human beings. His heart thumped in his chest, and he breathed with relief. He would survive today, he reassured himself.

"But you would find that Silver Coven haven't ever taken humans as their feeding source. They can tell you further about their coven, if you would get to know them. You would benefit from it greatly." He told Ryder gently.

"You have nothing to fear." He added as an after thought. Ryder nodded numbly. His eyes turned towards professor Snape whose eyes were watching him intently. He suppressed another flinch and smiled a small smile at him.

"_Sire please, please hold me. Please tell me you love me. Please don't leave me, sire._" Someone wailed pathetically for only his ears to be tortured, but he didn't let his stubborn dry eyes away from his Sire. His gaze hungrily drank in his Sire's form because that was the only privilege he would be given, and he knew it. Severus nodded at him, and they turned their attentions towards Lucius whose suggestion of getting back to their original discussion worked in all their favors.

* * *

"I don't know. He was furious as though I was asking his life from him." Draco said softly as he sagged against the couch he was sitting in, in the living room of his godfather, and Sire Professor Snape's quarters. He sipped slowly from the goblet he had in his right hand, while the left played with the thread on the hem of his sweater. Lord Malfoy and Lord Prince gazed at him, listening intently to whatever had him so hurt. Their own goblets half filled with wine. The soft glow of burning wood in the fireplace was only light in the room.

" And when he looked at me, it was as-as I used to look at-" He stopped abruptly, his grey eyes reflecting the utter unease he felt.

"As you used to look at?" Lord Malfoy encouraged his son, knowing perfectly whom his son was talking about. He exchanged a glance with Lord Prince as his son shut his eyes tightly.

"P-Potter." He stuttered.

The Father and Godfather exchanged exasperated looks with each other. His insecurity, jealously or whatever it was, would destroy only him in the end.

"Potter is dead. He can't take anything from you." The harsh reprimand was of his Godfather.

"I know." He paused to take a big gulp from his goblet.

"Its just that he hates me, and I don't know what I have done."

"Draco! As far as I have seen and interacted with Jamison. He had shown me reverence befitting my status. He hadn't shown any contempt or hate or anything like that." His father looked at him. His expressions telling him the blame was his paranoia

"I don't know." He whispered.

Severus Snape stood up. He turned, facing away from his godson. He placed his still half filled goblet on the small table near the fireplace. He remained silent for a while.

"You know, Draco. Your problem is that you are accustomed to getting whatever you yearned for." He paused for a moment still facing away from his childe.

"Jamison rejected your advances for relationship more than that of colleague, just like Potter had done on the train to Hogwarts."

His voice grew more softer if that was possible.

"That is why he reminded you of him Draco. But heed my advice dragon you cannot always get what you covet for." He traced the edge of the mantel above the fireplace with his index finger. The photo frame placed on it reflected the poorly concealed regret. Not knowing your childe, ignoring him, and hating him may not had been that painful for him as it was for Potter, but now a part of him ached to take the lost fledgling in his arms and protect him from the world. His bond with Draco, his elder childe was not anything like with Potter. And although the bond was tightly shut not a tinge since 6 years ago, still something in him knew that he was not as dead as their world thought him to be. He smirked inwardly at the irony that his dragon was so jealous that Potter would steal his Godfather, and Sire when he knew that Severus hated his guts. What would he do if he became aware of the fact that he, Severus hated Potter, his lost childe, no more than Severus hated Draco himself. The intense onyx eyes met with the grey gaze reflected in the glass of photo frame. A small smile appeared on the thin lips before his face, and eyes became clear of every emotion. He was master occlumens after all. Lucius patted him on his shoulder comfortingly as if he were onto his thoughts about his youngest childe. He closed his eyes and exhaled softly, swallowing the bitter emotions of regret as he had been doing for the last four years.

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**To be continued.. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

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_It all started with the echoes and whispers in the nothingness, they rose and fell in the volume, twisted and untwisted, danced around him; like the moth to the flame, and suddenly he could recognize them. Those shadows and demons didn't belong to him precisely, but now they were his to bear till the last shuddering breath of his life. The dark corridors of the Hogwarts were lit with yellow torches, the flames of them hissed and crackled in the melancholy of the night. He saw a shadow getting longer and clearer. The shoulder length hair on the shadow quickly provided him with a name to the shadow. The shadow ended quickly at the feet of the teen who was cocooned into hand-me-down dull black robes with a Slytherin crescent, they didn't seem to provide him with much warmth. He was tall, but he was hunched on himself as though trying to disappear into himself. The long, silky black hair were obscuring his face. Harry watched him mesmerized like always, when the sounds of chuckling and laughter broke his concentration. The long haired teen flinched. Ryder knew those sounds very well too. He shuddered. He couldn't bear that anymore. They would bully him he knew that, having experienced these nightmares again and again, but his limits had reached years ago, he didn't have energy nor numbness left to bear the torture, the guilt of the incidences._

_A pained yelp captured Ryder's attention again. The dark-haired teen was no longer alone, but he was now surrounded by three blurry figures, and a lone amber eyed figure hovered near the corner of the corridor, he reflected nervous energy. He was scared to lose his friends, he was sure he couldn't survive without them, thus he wouldn't interfere. Self sacrifice he would save for any other occasion, another person who wouldn't be a Slytherin, and so his friends wouldn't be offended. He dropped his eyes as a yelp once again echoed in the hallway. The black haired teen was now hovering in the air, dog ears flopped at the top of his head, and his transformed nose opened and closed making loud clinking noises. The black eyes blazed with humiliation as the boy's clothes suddenly were transfigured into vulgar clothing that barely covered his body. The jeering laughter made his insides clench. He turned the corner to wait for his friends to finish their fun against the unarmed Slytherin._

_The black wand had rolled down, and came to rest near his feet. Ryder bent down to pick it up, but his hands passed easily through the wand he couldn't pick it up. He closed his eyes against the humiliation he himself felt. Sometimes it felt even raw, even more aggressive, more painful and more bloody. He took deep breaths to dislodge the rock of tears that was stuck in his throat and chest, but as usual he failed._

_The messy haired man stopped his chuckling as his dog-friend lowered his wand, and the hovering Slytherin fell down on the hard stone floor. He winced, his conscious echoed his cruelty and injustice, but he shooed them away. His doggy friend needed this, he was helping his friend, he was thus justified in his actions. Nothing was more important than friendship, right? The happy yelps of the black dog standing over the Slytherin decided it for him. The dog ran towards the corner where their prefect friend was concealed, the messy haired Gryffindor gazed at the teen curled into a ball, guilt rose its head in his consciousness once again. But he pushed it down, and ran after his friends leaving the humiliated and injured Slytherin on the ground._

_Ryder trembled as he once again replayed the inner conflict of emotions that were displayed on the face of messy haired teen. His eyes leaked water as he hoped that remorse could win in spite of knowing that selfishness would win in the end. He trembled as the boy ran away leaving the Slytherin to tend to his injuries and humiliation alone, cold and scared._

_The darkness suddenly gave way to bright sunlight as the cheers and giggles of students caressed his ears. It was another day, another incident, and he wept for he already knew what was coming he didn't want to experience it again. It hurt badly. _

_The black haired teen was once again in the air, this time he was upside down. His robes fell under the gravity towards ground and covered his face, leaving the rest of him naked and vulnerable. The faded boxers brought a wave of laughter among those scattered around the grounds. Everything happened so fast and as his tears leaked, and soak his hands that were hiding his pained face, the scene changed once again._

_It was dark again, it was the night time. A horrendous looking creature sat on the throne like chair. His eyes were blood red. He smirked as he read the surface thoughts, as he sucked the despair and humiliation. His insides hummed with happiness as though he were a dementor. The bowed silky haired man presented his pale arm to be branded, to be marked, to be given what he craved most: the acceptance, to be deemed worthy of something, anything despite his old clothes, despite his heritage, and despite his identity of a school's house. But he didn't know what he was falling into. He was still innocent, still naive enough to not fully understand the consequences of the brand that would mark his arm. But the red eyes creature took great pleasure in raping that innocence from those naive minds. He was devil from the hell. _

_As the spell was spoken, and the tattoo appeared on the pale arm accompanied by the searing pain he woke up..._

...he woke up with a wail of pain, he was drenched in sweat and his heart pulsated with panic against his ribcage. He sobbed in defeat. The son was reaping the sins of the father. He was being denied what he wanted most: the acceptance, the unconditional love and a family, just like _he_ was denied years ago. It was fair after all, wasn't it?

* * *

Severus Snape suddenly jolted forward and the glass rod from his hand dropped into the cauldron he was stirring. He ran a hand through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose, not understanding the sudden shocks and tremors he was experiencing for a few days. His pondering dark eyes stilled at the point just above the cauldron as he traced the pattern of these tremors within his mind.

* * *

"So Professor Jamieson, how are you finding the Hogwarts." Amongst the chitter chatter of students and the clinking of utensils, the voice of elder Malfoy reached his ears. His face contorted with a mixture of fear and pain for a split second, but he quickly diffused them to the back of his mind behind the walls. He smiled and looked at the man.

"Its amazing. Hogwarts is magnificent." Emotions creeped into his sentence, and the elder Malfoy clearly felt them. He just contented himself with smiling a small smile at him. There were few things that had remained in his control.

"So Christmas is coming close. Have you made plans yet?" The Malfoy patriarch's eyes were frozen on his face, he noted with distaste. He was clearly trying to read the young professor. Ryder knew that both his Sire and this professor as well as the headmaster suspected something about him. Be it mental illness or him impersonating someone. They had tried to milk information out of him by being sympathetic, but he wasn't going to tell them who he was, where had he came from, what he wanted. He needed his peace, he wanted to spend the last few days near them, so at least it would hurt less when he would die in their close proximity.

"No." A cold wariness enveloped his voice. And Lucius Malfoy understood that he didn't want to be probed about his friends or love life. This young guy was hiding something, he was sure of it. Or what type of person didn't have any friends or acquaintances. Even Severus had quite a number of acquaintances and he was the most anti-social of them all. He gazed with the same coldness into the dark brown eyes as he had felt into the tone. The eyes hardened, and a dangerous glint appeared in them. The elder wizard smirked inwardly. This youngling was fun to rile up.

The amused expressions of Lucius Malfoy flamed his anger, and he could feel the silver just beyond the brown of his eyes, ready to bleed into the fake brown and trigger open his other abilities. He held back with difficulty. The tell tale sensations at the base of his gums warned him to seek cover. He abruptly broke the eye contact and stood up from his chair. He left the great hall in hurry while the silver family gazed at each other pointedly, and at the breakfast left untouched where he had just left the table.

* * *

"Professor, do you believe that Harry Potter was assassinated or was he beaten to death at the hands of his relatives?" When he had called the Seventh year Hufflepuff, Samantha David, to ask the question she so clearly wanted to, he hadn't imagined she would ask something so controversial with such bluntness. He felt himself going rigid at the question, but his face remained impassive.

"How would I know Miss David? I was not in England at the time of the death. Furthermore, only the witnesses, or the medi-wizards who have examined the body could say anything with surety. I, however, can't." He side-tracked her questions easily. But she wasn't easily distracted.

" You should take a guess professor. Actually I am doing an assignment for the extra credit to get into auror program , and I chose to investigate about Harry Potter's sudden death. Part of my assignment is to write about the opinion of our public." She told him with such confidence, he was reminded of Hermione. The youthful faces of his long lost best friends melted into his consciousness. He blinked twice to clear the haze out of his mind. Now was not the time to get emotional.

"Then let's ask your classmates what they think about this horrible incident." His face suddenly glinted with expressions of interest and curiosity. He wanted to know what people think about their hero's demise.

"Yes George Abbott, would you like to share your thoughts on this?" He pointed at a ginger head sitting towards the back of classroom. The ginger boy nodded his head.

"Yes sir. I think that his relatives abused him, and then left him in the wilderness to bleed to death, but he actually died from the vampire bite." He was well informed, thought Ryder.

"Samuel Thomas, enlighten us with your thoughts." His soft but sharp voice carried throughout the classroom. One by one the students of his seventh year shared their thoughts. He listened to them stoically. He felt nothing but bitter calmness. His mind was half in the classroom, and half in the memory of the horrid night that had turned his life upside down.

"...my father was one of those medi-wizards and he sometimes can't sleep because he remembers that night when they went to collect the body." His musings froze midway as the words of the short blond haired boy registered in his mind.

"My father sometimes say that something was not right with the body. As though it was alive as well as dead at the same time. And I can't form an opinion because my father is never wrong about his profession."

He forgot how to breath in that exact moment. He felt hard wind blowing all around him that froze his ability to hear and think clearly. He gulped, trying to calm the rising panic down. The particular opinion had surprised his students as well and they were all taking among themselves. No one was looking at him, because if they had, they would have only seen the pale face staring back at them. He breath deeply and took the wand with his shaking hand. The bang that erupted calmed his students down.

"Silence students. Or have you forgotten the rules of this class." He spoke with authority, making stern eye contact with them. Their sheepish faces calmed his nerves down almost completely. It was only an opinion, no one could find out about him. He and Harry Potter belonged to two different realities. As soon as his students settled, he saw the hand of Samantha once again in the air. He sighed running a hand through his hair.

"Yes, Miss David." He prompted her to ask her question.

"Sir what do you think about these mysterious circumstances surrounding Harry Potter's death? " She asked him once again. It would become suspicious if he tried to side-track her question again. He took a breath and looked at her.

"What I think about Harry's death is that." He stopped as he saw the black robed wizard standing at the back door of his classroom. His students had their complete attention towards him, so they didn't see that their potions professor was in the classroom. His eyes bore into the black eyes, and the bitter loneliness of his life wailed at him. This man was responsible for his miserable existence.

"His family is responsible for his death. They left him to die, when they were supposed to care for him, love him, accept him. They turned their backs to him. Even if a vampire drained him dry, his murderers were his family. The family he was with at that night. " He finished his speech. His eyes still bore into the obsidian orbs. He could taste his own desperation. His shields threatened to slip but his held at them tightly. Harry Potter was dead, dead for almost seven years, and he must remain dead for infinity.

He broke the eye contact as the bell rang, signaling the end of the lecture. He gathered his things as his students did the same. The black haired wizard abruptly loosened his death grip on the door. He melted back into the shadows of the doors without any of the students noticing him.

* * *

The night was cloudy, blanketing the sky, hiding the full moon in it's full glory behind them. He was standing in the tallest tower of Hogwarts, enveloped in deep dyed darkness. His silver eyes were zoned on the forest, he was hungry and weak, but he didn't want to go in there. Silver coven unlike him didn't specifically need animal blood, Severus and Lucius were mates, they could drink off of each other. Draco was their son and childe, he could also take from them as much as he wanted. Ryder pressed at his forehead that had started to hurt more and more these past days. He was frustrated and didn't know what to do anymore. He wanted blood but he didn't want to go in the forest where they were present. He sighed and rested his head against the pillar that stood beside the window like archway. He closed his eyes, the past few weeks played like a video in his sub consciousness. He couldn't decide if he were better coming here, of if he should have stayed where he were. His heart beat painfully as he remembered the shrieking despondency that had been his life for as long as he could remember. Here he saw them daily, saw their love for each other, their affection. He was often amazed at how they worked in sync. They always knew if one of them was in distress or not. They placed their family, their coven first and foremost. Their family was complete. He didn't fit anywhere among them. He had been an intruder few years ago, and he was still a stranger to them, an intruder who carried the identity and powers of their coven. They had thought he was undeserving of them and he thought that he was undeserving of life itself. Defeated he lowered his head further, and hid himself in his arms like a small child seeking comfort.

"The air is quite fresh here, isn't it?" His muscles clenched and his fangs elongated. He flinched in an attempt to hold his stance and not attack the headmaster who was serenely standing just behind him. He cursed his own stupidity, in his hysteria and self pity he had clamped his senses shut, and he neither heard nor felt headmaster getting so close. A sharp pain went like an electric shock through his body because of sudden elongation of fangs, a few droplets of blood fell, and got absorbed into his robes. He took a deep breath and willed them back into their original place. The silver of his eyes dimmed along with his fangs. He didn't turned towards headmaster, neither did he dropped his arms from around him.

"What do you want headmaster?" His strained voice seemed needy even to his own ears. He cringed, and closed his eyes in exhaustion once more. A few tears slipped down his face and onto his hands.

"Are you alright, Ryder?" The softness and concern in his voice broke all the dams for the younger of the two, and the sobs erupted from deep within him. He tightened his arms around himself, the coldness that surrounded him and his heart couldn't be battled away by the thick robes he was wearing. To him everything in the universe seemed set on destroying him, and he was frazzled. The tears continued to flow, and he felt more alone and more scared than ever before, just like a little child whose mother had died, leaving him alone and devastated in the vicious crowds of the humans.

A warm hand on his shoulders guided him away from the cold corner he had hid himself in, and into a comforting warmness. The sobs increased as he felt the soothing calmness and solace enveloping him. He buried his head into it, and sobbed until he drained all his tears away.

"It'll be alright, my child. Don't worry." Someone was saying in his ear, and he wanted to tell them that they were wrong, he couldn't believe them, but he didn't want to lose the comfort of the arms around him as well as the strong heartbeat that was flaking his anxiety away second by second. It had been a lifetime since he had felt affectionate human contact. He closed his eyes tightly, a few stray tears slid down his face and fell onto the already damp robe.

"Ryder would you tell me what had you so devastated?" The ancient headmaster stopped patting his head, and asked him. He buried himself further into the warm embrace, and shivered as he imagined the reaction of headmaster if he knew who he were. His body trembled under the load of his emotions. He shook his head. He didn't want to answer.

"Has anyone in Hogwarts made you feel this way?" He stiffened at the question. Was headmaster going to cast him away from Hogwarts? Would he no longer be allowed to teach students, or to stay here? His heart sped up in panic.

"N-no. I am not mad. Please don't make me leave." He wept. All his fears were coming true. Headmaster wanted to get rid of him. He cried as he could only see the lonely darkness in his near future.

"No Ryder. No one is sending you away. I want to know what had my best defense teacher in hysterics. Who hurt you, child?" Headmaster tightened his arms around him as though to ensure him that he wasn't being cast away.

"No please. I don't have anywhere to go." He cried in a weak voice. The burden of being alone in the world weighed him down heavily.

"I give you my wizard's oath Ryder that no one would make you leave." He froze as he realized what headmaster has just said. He breathed deeply through his nose, and struggled out of the embrace. He kept his head lowered, his brown curls obscured half his face. He closed his eyes and touched the magic of Hogwarts with his own. It hummed happily. He smiled a sad smile. He teased her magic once again, a few colorful strands came his way, and ruffled him as though playing with him, the naughty wizard who teased her. He opened his senses and breathed deeply the scent of Hogwarts and the man standing in front of him. He wanted to take enough for the last time, he didn't know if he would even be alive in the morning. His silver eyes shone brightly under his eye lids.

He slowly picked his head up, eyes still closed he faced the headmaster directly. It was now or never.

"Not even now?" He asked the ancient wizard, and slowly opened his eyes. The man inhaled sharply at the glittering silver eyes. For a long moment Albus Dumbledore was left speechless as he tried to understand the situation that was presented before him.

The long silence took his breath away. His heart sank, and he lowered his head in resignation. He waited for the headmaster to deliver his verdict. His magic buzzed in anticipation along with his palpitating dread. Tears once again started to leak out of his puffy eyes, and he regretted every coming out on this tower. If only he had went in forest, taken blood and then went to his rooms silently, this wouldn't have happened. He took a shuddering breath as he felt his chest getting tighter and tighter.

"Not even now, Ryder." The headmaster replied shakily albeit with finality in his voice. He had quickly over came his surprise when he had heard the tell tales of panic attack. Whatever had happened, whatever the story was, his long years in world had given him wisdom, that clearly told him that the child was innocent. He was reaping bitter fruit of someone else's sin. He was alone and helpless, struggling with psychological issues. He needed help. And Albus Dumbledore was set on helping this young man. He would never lose another fine young man to misunderstandings and hesitations.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

His hands tighten around the cup of tea headmaster had floated in front of him. His eyes were glued to the large painting that hung on the wall behind the headmaster. He was not ready to answer headmaster's questions yet. He shuddered when he thought about having to live as Harry Potter again.

"Ryder." It was spoken softly, he looked at headmaster with great difficulty. The eyes held sincerity and consideration. He placed the cup on the desk with trembling hands.

"I-uh no-my-I." He stuttered miserably. His hands going towards his head. He gripped his hair tightly in his hands.

"I am sorry." His voice was thick with emotions. The man sitting opposite to him looked at him, holding eye contact with him for a long minute.

"Relax, child. I won't force you to tell me anything, but just for the safety of all of us, I need to know who converted you without your consent."

He hiccoughed as the night played before his eyes.

_Vernon Dursley knocked violently at the door of the small bedroom. _

_"Open the door, you little shit." He was slurring his words as if he were drunk. The boy in the room looked at the door with his heart racing. It was the middle of the week. Vernon did not get drunk during week days. Something dreadful must have happened if he is drunk on an office night. The door was banged once again and the slurred shouts called him vulgar names. He scanned the room in desperation, but there wasn't a place in the small threadbare room that could hide him from the ugly wrath of his drunk uncle. He stumbled backward as the lock of the door broke and the door flew open with a loud bang. The monstrous man thudded towards him foaming at the mouth in a fit of mad rage. He backed away until he was pressed against the wall of the room. His heart thundered in his chest as he took in the crimson face of his uncle._

_"You freak! They know I have an abomination in my house." A blow landed on his nose cracking it. Thick red blood flowed out of his nose. He looked at the man pathetically. More blows landed. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the pain._

_"You good for nothing. I will cure your freaky self of this bloody disease you call magic." He looked at his uncle through blood stained eyes as he produced a syringe that was beginning to melt under the effect of whatever was in it. He glanced downward at himself. He was bleeding from several wounds, blood dripped from his head onto his face and into his eyes. His left arm was twisted at an impossible angle and he felt disconnected waves of agony. He gazed up towards his uncle once again. Defeat. He lowered his head towards floor in resignation. He was ready to welcome the nothingness of death which will come, but with excruciating pain no doubt. As the obese hulk of the man moved towards him he closed his eyes tightly. The syringe was slammed down in downright abhorrence. He felt it piercing his wrist and the force broke the delicate bones, but none of those wounds remained his worry anymore as the molten scalding lava sped through his veins. Every milli-second his blistering agony increased tenfold. He used to think that he had felt the worst of the pains with all the Voldemort and Death eater scenario, but clearly he was dead wrong. He had never imagined pain like this even existed. The hot lava lapped at his eyes, his heart, his brain, and every single cell of his body burred under the searing inferno. It was not long before he succumbed to darkness._

"I-it was with my c-consent. I was injured. I asked Sire Lucas to convert me when he found me fatally injured." He whispered. The white lie left an acrid taste in his mouth. His muscles convulsed with an effort to keep himself together. He felt exposed in front of headmaster, naked, vulnerable, and he couldn't bring himself to give his trust completely to this man in front of him. His insides hurt with the force of his breathing. He picked his head up to look at the ancient man. His bloodshot eyes pleaded and begged with the man to let it go. He sucked in a harsh breath.

"Please..." He implored desperately, his hands clenched around the fistful of his hair.

"Relax child." Headmaster murmured in a low, soothing voice as he could see the young vampire was on the verge of panic attack. He would have to give time to Ryder to face it, to heal, and to come to terms with some of his past then and only then would Ryder trust him. He knew something was amiss in the narrative of Ryder. If Lucas had taken a childe, he would had told his coven members. But after all the fiasco with Harry Potter, he could understand the reluctance that Lucas must have felt. Still something was awry. Severus and Lucas were closest to each other, it was indeed peculiar if Lucas hadn't shared this secret with Severus because Severus had never mentioned a Ryder Jamison, he was sure of it. And neither did Severus show any indication that he was familiar with this youngling.

"Don't worry child. I am here for you. I won't press you to tell me anything that you aren't comfortable with." He paused to gauge the expressions of the younger man. He was taking deep breaths, calming himself down. He looked at Ryder with a heavy heart as the boy calmed his breathing with practiced ease. His life had severely lacked any sort of affection Albus understood.

"Severus should be able to help you, let me j-" The shrill and terrified "No" froze him mid sentence as Ryder jumped out of the chair, which fell down backwards on the floor, and whirled around as though looking for an escape.

"No no NO you can't." He cried hysterically, tears of frustration streaming down his face, his eyes silvery. He trembled and turned around towards headmaster. His hands pulled at his hair in desperation. Choked, frightened, and embittered sobs slipped past his lips. He was unable to comprehend anything and to him the stunned silence of headmaster seemed the rigid decision of spilling his secret to Severus Snape. His legs quivered and gave out, unable to support him, and he slid down to the floor and his knees collided with the stony floor painfully as the tremors ran throughout his body. He hid his red face in his hands and continued to mutter defeated no's.

He flinched badly when a hand gripped his shoulder. He didn't care for comfort or anything at all. His heart was sinking second by second into the deep valleys of despair at the prospect of his Sire finding out about him. The long aged fingers rubbed gently back and forth.

"It's alright, my child we won't tell anyone you don't want to know. I promise."

The old, kind voice comforted him, and he raised his head, turning to look at the headmaster. Sucking in another shaky breath, he squeezed his eyes shut, again struggling in vain to stave the tears, to fend off the sobs lodged deep in his throat. The warm hand moved upward, and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. He nodded weakly, feeling too limp, too tired to do anything. He let himself be guided gently into the warm, frail arms, and collapsed back into the warm embrace. He loved the feeling of comfort, of reassurance, needed it desperately; wanted someone to simply be there for him, only for him. The frail arms slid tightly around him, holding him tightly against the warm chest.

As the elder man continued to comfort the youngling in his arms, he thought about another child, another soul who fell prey to the wrong decisions, wrong words, and misunderstood intentions. Albus vowed to himself that he won't interfere in this young man's life. He won't try to do any good by controlling him. He would only be there, to support, to comfort, and to wipe the tears. Ryder reminded him of Harry too much, his eyes watered as the innocent green eyes came into his mind.

"I promise things will be alright." He whispered softly to Ryder and the latter believed him.

* * *

He was sitting in his comfortable arm chair in front of the fire, staring at the flames, just as he had two nights ago, replaying the words again and again.

" _His family is responsible for his death."_

He was no close to figuring out what he had felt when those words had come out of the mouth of the defense professor. What he knew? Nothing at all. That man didn't have any right to judge him when he couldn't even bring himself to be at ease in their presence. He took a small sip from the goblet he held in his right hand as the other hand massaged his forehead. He growled as he replayed the scene once again in his head.

"You blasted child! You know nothing. " He gritted through his teeth. His mood was getting worse as his conscious grasped at the blurry edges of remorse, aggravation, protectiveness and detachment that were giving him a blinding headache. Why was he feeling this ridiculous mixture of emotions? Ryder Jamison was a freaking human for the love of Merlin. He was a vampire. Ryder loathed vampires and he felt guilt. Why? He ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and flinched suddenly when pleading green eyes on a messy haired child startled him. He jerked as he opened his eyes.

"Please Sire." A broken croaked whisper made him shudder.

"I am sorry." He thought to himself. He shouldn't have done that to Potter. He should have placed his prejudiced feelings aside and kept his mouth shut. They would have devised something that would have helped all of them but he shouldn't have rejected Potter as his childe. Merlin knows where he was or even if he were alive. He took an agitated breath. His feelings were getting more complicated as sudden anger shot through his head. Why should he even care? Wasn't he humiliated enough by Potter. Sr? Why must he torture himself with the spawn of that bully. He did the right thing by rejecting the arrogant boy. His black eyes flared with silver as once again the words replayed in his mind. He hurled the goblet in his hand towards the fireplace with all his might. The goblet shattered and the flames flared brighter for a moment as the alcohol reacted with them before going back to their mellow state. He stared at the flames once again with deep burning silver eyes.

* * *

"Come in, Professor Jamison ." At the call of Lucius Malfoy, he entered the room.

The room was stupendous, accommodating a magnificent raised dueling platform in the middle. The platform was surrounded by four stout pillars which were lit by neon style but more elegant lights, bathing the room in mystic sea green. The back walls of the rooms contained spacious shelves and cupboards that definitely contained accessories related to dueling. The front walls were covered in intricate engravings and runes.

"These are weaved in to provide maximum protection for students." Draco Malfoy offered as he saw him looking at the runes intently.

He was filled with envy as he heard the dreaded voice. _Why was he there?_ The little boy in him protested with jealousy.

"Don't son. He isn't worth it." He flinched at the statement. Lucius Malfoy had spoken in a tone low enough to not be detected by mere humans, but he had heard all right. His wounded eyes met those of his Sire's and he felt something in him recoil at the naked distrust and dislike he saw there directed at himself. He dropped his eyes.

The fluid magic tightened itself more close to his mind, erasing every bit of the emotions he felt, leaving his face blank and his eyes vacant.

"Have a seat, Mr. Jamison." The voice of his Sire was embarking on sarcasm and disrelish. He nodded his head and took the seat across from the black haired man. The two Malfoys took their seat on either sides of the said man.

Things had changed for him he noted. The indifference of Severus had turned to dislike. The playful attitude of senior Malfoy was replaced by aversion as well. He lowered his head. Even in the crowd, he was all alone.

"We should talk before we proceed to work together." The elder Malfoy said as a matter of fact.

"_Boy we must talk."_

He nodded. He knew where this was going.

"We all have been subjected to your prejudiced resentment, and we won't accept it anymore. Nothing is more important for us than family and respect."

"_We won't accept your freakish self anymore. You are polluting our normal family."_

"I'm sorry sir." He murmured. The three vampires looked bewildered at his meek acceptance and apology, but he was too busy to block out the voices that were invading his head to notice their surprise.

"We don't care whether you accept us or not. But we demand proper respect as we give it to you."

"_We don't care whether you die or live, boy. But you would accept all our rules and demands if you want to live in this house. " The spit drops had sprayed on his face due to the force of shout. _

"Yes sir." Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape shared a look. They weren't expecting this at all. They had expected denial, acceptance and then open hostility may be, but not this.

"Do you understand, Mr. Jamison?"

"_Do you accept, boy?" Vernon had asked in a condescending tone after showing him a ridiculously large list of equally ridiculous rules. He was basically to be their personal slave and house elf. _

" Yes sir." He answered the question his sire, no no sire, he had no sire. The question Professor Snape had asked of him, he mentally corrected himself.

"I think we should now limit our discussion to strictly our defense club and it's students." He nodded his acceptance silently. There wasn't anything left for him to say.

He wondered if it was really his fault, he had always thought that both his families had been unfair to him, but now even under different name, different face, he was still the cause of their shunning. May be it was him all along. May be he was seeing himself in little white light and he didn't want to see himself for the freakish nutcase he really was.

He looked at the moving lips of the elder Malfoy, but all he could hear was a loud, bashing voice that screamed at him from within himself.

"_Who you are kidding, you pathetic shit! Your own, real, blood parents died because of you."_

"_Look what you have done. You made your Sire ashamed of you."_ Another shriek echoed in his mind and he tightened his muscles so he wouldn't move, wouldn't flinch and wouldn't be freaky all again.

"Are you even listening to us, Jamieson." His distressed mind couldn't decipher who had asked him.

"Ye-Yes sir." He licked his parched lips and accepted the parchment Junior Malfoy was holding to him. He placed it on the desk in front of him and stared at it blankly, the other three had resumed their discussion without him. It stung

He placed his trembling hands on top of his thighs and tried to keep up with what they were talking about. They were barely paying him any attention. They didn't seem to have any inclination of the storm that was playing havoc in his mind.

"Are you a simpleton, Jamison, or do you have an old habit of playing pathetic victim."

His hands tighten around his thighs, sharp nails digging small crescents in the pale flesh underneath the contrasting black pants.

"May I be excused please?" He knew his voice was trembling pitifully, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get out of there, somewhere, anywhere else would be fine. He just couldn't face them anymore.

Without waiting for their response he vacated his chair and walked out of the room.

He was feeling cold and disconnected. His mind had also gone deathly quite, he wondered if it were just brewing the more painful acidic accusations or if it had gone into shock.

"Well," he thought. "I don't care." He giggled as he almost flew down the stairs towards the floor where his rooms were located. His fingers itched to take the blade and balm the emotional agony with physical throb.

* * *

"What was that?" Draco Malfoy asked.

"Drama queen." His godfather and sire whom had also adopted him few years back and now was dad to him wrapped his criticism in one simple word and went back to his work.

The two blond guys made an eye contact, the younger one shrugged his shoulders while the elder one went back to work without the trivial show of shrugging his shoulders.

* * *

"Headmaster! You don't want to understand. It's just that simple." His tone was quite insolent and Severus knew that, but after yesterday's drama, he had vowed to himself that he would not tolerate more imbecile dramatics of that damned defense teacher.

"If you insist on him being part of _our_ club, I humbly resign from the headship of the club. I am sure Lucius will be more willing to put up with that brat." He snarled, his voice carried all the hatred he felt for freaking Jamison and that brat of the boy who was once his childe.

"No need to resign Severus. I'll appoint Ryder to some other club." The headmaster with too long of a name said to him, but his Aggravation increased as he heard the first name of the boy from his own mentor. He grimaced and shut down that part of his thoughts.

"Very well then. I must go now." He stood up from his chair and moved towards the office door, but stopped short.

"Do you really hate Harry so much, Severus?" Albus asked him, his voice airy.

"_Did he?"_ he thought. When the naive pale face with too trusting green eyes and endearing messy hair came into his mind, it was accompanied by the heavy and unhappy feelings that were far worse than any anger or hate and which he avoided like a plague.

" Yes." He gritted through his teeth. He didn't want to think about that damned brat. It hurt the more he thought about him. Regret he could understand and deal with, but those other feelings that had developed within him for that boy were terrifying. He may now have different feelings for the boy, but he would never ever acknowledge them even if the boy came back from the dead, he thought with scorn shutting down firmly the part of his brain that shouted at him the reality of his own fear of facing something so simple as feelings.

He shut down the door of the old fool's office more forcefully than required and walked down to his dungeons with his black robes bellowing behind him.

* * *

**To be continued….. **


End file.
